The Chimera Calculus
by causidicus-anna
Summary: Summary: What does Sheldon most fear? Warnings: Some angst, but no dire warnings (read until the end.) Disclaimer: The Big Bang Theory does not belong to me.


**Author's Note**: This is a oneshot based on something I read on the shamyconfessions tumblr on 10/30 (maybe 10/31?).

* * *

Sheldon checked his watch for the third time in half an hour.

"You seem distracted," Amy muttered.

"Oh, that would be because I am immensely distracted."

"What is it now?" she asked with a note of impatience.

"I've just thought of a different direction for my most recent calculation."

Amy gave him a look, but grabbed a legal pad and a pen and placed both in front of him. Sheldon began furiously scribbling, not looking up once.

After twenty minutes he bolted upright. "Amy, I must be going home now. Which means you need to drive me home."

"It's our date night."

"I know," he conceded, managing to sound slightly apologetic. "But this cannot wait – I've been pondering for weeks how to make these sets work and it just…revealed itself." He couldn't suppress the small smile that lit up his face.

"You have an eidetic memory – can't you just as easily work here?"

"I need my board."

"Fine," Amy snapped suddenly, snatching her purse off the couch.

She was silent driving Sheldon home, but he didn't once notice. He was a million miles away, watching his work unfold in his head.

* * *

_Amy was going to be gone. That's ok. It'd be sad, but not too sad. He began to think about all of the positives of the situation. There's always a silver lining, as his mother used to say. This might turn into a good thing for him, after awhile. He'd miss her at first, of course – it was only human, and he wasn't completely evolved. He was used to her. But then he'd get right back up with the pleasant memory of her to access during the course of his entire life, and all of his time would again be devoted to his work. Plus, all living creatures must eventually die. It was the circle of life, where we return to the stars from which we were born._

_He looked at Amy who looked back at him, smiling. She began talking, and something began to creep over him as he looked at the collar of her blouse poking out of her sweater. His eyes traveled to her face, noting with particularity the color of her hair and her eyes – it was a fairly unusual combination. Pleasing._

_She continued to speak, walking now, and he was walking with her. He didn't think about what she was saying – come to think of it, he had no idea what she was talking about. But it didn't bother him – he kept listening to her; her voice was very clear._

_He realized with a shock that this was the last time he'd talk to her. His heart rate doubled; he couldn't focus on her now. He understood the feeling that had started a moment ago. The staggering grief was like a lead weight on him, pulling him slowly under. No he thought with abject terror and longing this can't be the last time_

* * *

Sheldon opened his eyes. He registered a gelatinous puddle under his cheek, but he didn't move from his spot for a second.

Finally he sat up, absently wiping the drool off of his cheek and his computer, staring fearfully at nothing. He looked around a couple of times; then, as if something had just occurred to him, he quickly dug his hands into his pockets.

He pulled out his phone and with a shaky hand scrolled through his recent calls, finally pressing the call button and putting the phone to his ear.

_The number you have dialed, 626-_555-2690_, is not available._ Sheldon's heart rate increased exponentially and he pressed 'end,' then hit the call button again. The ringing went on forever. _The number you have dialed – _he jammed the end button again. He was going to be sick. He swallowed and then weakly pressed 'call' once again. He could barely hear the phone ringing now; all he heard was rushing in his ears like he was standing next to a waterfall.

"Sheldon?" Amy's sleepy voice cut through his thoughts like an iron arrow.

His vision suddenly blurred.

"Sheldon?" Amy asked again. Sheldon opened his mouth to answer her, but his throat closed up and he realized that he could not speak.

"Is something wrong?" Amy asked. He heard concern in her voice.

Sheldon swallowed hard, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. "No, I'm well. Thank you." His voice sounded tinny to his own ears.

"What's wrong?" Amy was fully awake now, and sounded afraid.

"Nothing is wrong." Sheldon's voice cracked on the last word and he felt an overwhelming desire to throw his phone at the wall and then finish it off with a baseball bat.

"I'm coming over," Amy said, and hung up. Sheldon contented himself with hurling his phone into the couch cushions.

* * *

By the time Amy knocked on his door, Sheldon was ready to spit nails. She hadn't responded to any of his text requests to stay home and refused to return his calls. Didn't she realize how illogical and senseless this intrusion into his privacy was? To say nothing of the fact that they both had work tomorrow. He swung the door open, fully ready to berate her for her silliness.

Amy looked completely disheveled. Her glasses were slightly askew, she was only wearing a sweater with no blouse underneath, and was wearing sweatpants instead of her normal skirt. "Sheldon, I am sorry it took me so long to get here," Amy said, panting a little, "I came as soon as I could. What happened?" She gazed at him with acute concern, her messy bun slumping to the side of her head. A piece of hair fell over her left eye.

Sheldon steeled himself and opened his mouth to let her have it.

"You shouldn't be working with those damn disease-infested monkeys!" he shouted, pointing a finger in her face.

_What?_

Horrifyingly, he felt his chin trembling and his vision blurring again.

Amy looked startled. "Sheldon…"

He couldn't stand it. He stalked away from her into his room, slamming the door. Stumbling in the dark, he sank heavily on the bed with his head in his hands, trying to get control of his labored breathing. He was going to hyperventilate. After a moment, he heard a soft knock.

"Get away from me," He snapped at the door, surprised at the intensity he heard in his voice. _You're being highly illogical_. It stopped for a second and he felt relief.

Then the knocking began again, and he didn't think he'd ever hated another person so much in his whole life as he hated her in that moment._  
_

The door cracked open and Amy peeked in. Sheldon looked up, simply staring as she trampled over all of his wishes and carefully walked over to him in the dark. "Sheldon, please," she said softly. "I have absolutely no idea why you're angry with me. You are frightening me."

Sheldon pursed his lips together; he didn't trust himself to talk.

She laid a hand tentatively on his arm.

At the feel of her warm, clammy little palm on his bicep he felt that an internal levy had been breached, and his eyes started leaking.

"You know, you're being kind of a douchebag," she said bluntly. It shocked him into finally looking at her, though he could barely see her face through his blurry eyes.

"Language," Sheldon mumbled, the rage beginning to slowly seep out of him.

Amy moved her palm up to his face, and he realized with humiliation that she must feel the evidence of his apparent mental collapse. He wanted to crawl under his bed and die of shame, but exhaustion was quickly overtaking him. White flag.

"Why don't you lay down?" Amy suggested in a subdued voice. Sheldon nodded glumly, toeing off his shoes and socks. Some kind of fabric was thrust into his hands. "These are your Thursday pajamas." He swallowed as he looked down at them.

"I'm turned around now; you can change." He heard her say over her shoulder.

He laboriously disrobed himself then put his pajamas on, tossing his clothes in the same heap with his shoes. He winced at the unsightly pile on the floor – he really wanted to put each item in its proper place, but felt unable to exert the effort.

Amy pulled the covers down on the bed and he crawled underneath them. She left him like that for a moment and he heard rustling, realizing with surprise that she was putting his clothes in the laundry basket and his shoes against the wall. His throat was constricting again.

She leaned over him as she pulled the covers up to his chin. "Goodnight, Sheldon."

When she turned away, he grabbed her arm.

"I'm sorry," he said in a tight voice.

"For what?"

"For cutting short our designated date night," Sheldon ground out.

"Oh," Amy said, surprised. "It's ok," she responded. She turned to leave again and he pulled her back to him more forcefully, clamoring onto his knees on the bed so that their eyes were even.

He swallowed and put both hands on her shoulders. _ It is essential that you communicate this_.

"You are...magnificent," he said unevenly, just barely maintaining eye contact. Amy's lips parted at this pronouncement.

Then, he shocked both of them and kissed her.

Amy's arms wove tightly around him and he leaned into her, reaffirming over and over again that she was here, she still existed on this earth…

And he was glad for it.


End file.
